Geof Nanto

Yes, to be totally rational would require not only knowledge of everything but also of every possible combination of outcomes from any action over time. I need to mow some of grass here but it's raining. Most of my land is forested and takes care of itself. But I have a few acres of grass that I maintain around my cabin. I have a 4WD mower that's fun to use - I need it because some of the land is very steep.

Or you could say it's logical to trust your intuition. I guess that's what Leth means by metalogic. Karl wrote: "Logic is a way of conforming as closely as possible with reality." To my observation, the reality is that few - if any - people are totally logical in the formal way he is implying. That is our reality. There's a good overview on the compex subject of logic at... https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logic

Some good information Sillybearhappyhoneyeater. Thanks Here is some detailed information on Daoist meditation I've found helpful for the distinction it makes between methods for men and women..... Taoist Meditation for Women - Introduction This short treatise on Taoist meditation for women was written for one Cao Zhenjie, a married woman described as "more learned and knowledgeable than men," in the year 1899. The distinction made between men and women in ordinary Taoist practice is part of the science of life and has to do with the physiological difference between the sexes. As seen in the work of Sun Bu-er, the feminine Tao of life includes the practice of deliberate and harmonious menopause as part of mastery over the physical body. In the present treatise, it will be seen that the primary distinction made is in the location of the attention when generating psychosomatic energy to circulate through the body. Men ordinarily use the lower abdomen, but this is proscribed for women, who are to use the sternum instead. The inner circulation of psychosomatic energy is commonly used for health and well-being, but misapplication of the collection procedure is universally held to be harmful. Those familiar with present-day Zen cults of Japanese origin will immediately notice in the following text the distinction made between Taoist practice for females and males in terms of the location of the attention in beginning sitting meditation. One of the unfortunate results of the uncritical importation of deteriorated forms of Japanese Zen Buddhism into Western countries, where a relatively large number of women attempt to practice Zen, is that many women have been taught to sit with the attention in the lower abdomen, a method Taoists claim is harmful to females. It is in fact nearly impossible to find any indication of this practice in authentic traditional Chan or Zen texts of China or Japan. It was popularized by the famous eighteenth-century Zen teacher Hakuin, but as part of a therapeutic regimen, as it had been in the comprehensive Chinese school of Tiantai Buddhism from which Chan partly derived. There is no evidence, furthermore, of Hakuin having taught any of his many female students to keep their attention in the abdomen as a regular practice, but many later Zen teachers seem to have made it a standard procedure for everyone regardless of other conditions. Perhaps this distortion was fostered by the popularity of Zen among males of the samurai caste, and later by association of Zen with martial arts, in which the focus of attention in the lower abdomen has a special function. In martial arts, of course, the motion of the practitioner has the effect of rapidly redistributing the accumulation of energy and thus offsetting the attendant dangers of this technique. According to the Taoist science of life, focus of attention on any part of the body involves potential danger and should not be done too long or too intensely. Specific dangers accompany attention on the lower abdomen in females, and attention on points in the head in both females and males. In Japan, the deterioration of the original system of which concentration on certain physical locations forms a part is evidenced in the use of the term tanden ("elixir field") exclusively for the lower abdomen. The original Taoist system defines three elixir fields, not just one; the lower abdomen is but one of these, called in Taoism the lower elixir field. Again, it might be theorized that the fragmentation and oversimplification of this system in Japan might have been due to centuries of dominance of male military associations with Zen. The present treatise on spiritual alchemy for women also makes it clear that this type of exercise is done only in the beginning of practice, until a certain effect is realized. Here again Zen cults of Japanese derivation that have people repeat the same exercise—particularly the exercises of placing the attention in the abdomen or on the breath—over and over again for years on end present clear evidence of stultifying deterioration. The etiology and specific symptoms of the deleterious effects of such practices among modern devotees of Zen or Taoist sitting and similar disciplines are not necessarily self-evident to either prescribers or practitioners, because of the very limitations of the systems that prescribe these practices indiscriminately. In view of this, and in consideration of the benefits of less obsessive and more technically well-informed procedures, this text on feminine Taoist practice may be considered of special importance for the many women of today who are attempting to use interior meditation methods to enhance consciousness and life. SPIRITUAL ALCHEMY FOR WOMEN In the science of essence and life, men and women are the same - there is no discrimination. In sum, what is important is perfect sincerity and profound singlemindedness. An ancient document says, "Only perfect sincerity in the world is capable of ruling." A classic says, "The perfection of singlemindedness is that whereby one may heed the order of life." In general, what is most essential at the beginning of this study is self-refinement. Self-refinement is a matter of mind and breathing resting on each other. This means that the mind rests on the breathing and the breathing rests on the mind. What is most important in this is harmony. Harmony is in balance, balance is in harmony. Are they one or two? The union of balance and harmony is called the go-between. With the harmonious attunement of the go-between, there is natural mutual love between mind and breathing; there is mutual attraction, mutual inspiration, mutual expiration. Continuing uninterrupted, do not forget, yet do not force. Lao-tzu said, "The singleminded energy is most supple, able to be like an infant." This is the perfection of true harmony. The Master of the Jade Moon, a spiritual alchemist, said, "When husband and wife meet in old age, their feelings are naturally affectionate." A classic says, "Tie them into one whole, mix them in one place, make them into one piece, force them in one furnace." The same classic also says, "Cow and bull go along with each other, sun and moon are in the same place; positive and negative charges merge, metal and fire commingle." The reality behind all of these sayings is spirit and energy being together, which means mind and breathing being together. Spirit is essence, energy is life. This is what is meant by the classic saying, "The root of essence is rooted in mind; the stem of life stems from breathing." It is necessary to know that creative evolution only takes place when spirit and energy are joined into one. The joining of the two into one is the reversion of the two modes—yin and yang—back into one totality. This is called the twin cultivation of essence and life. The twin cultivation of essence and life is a matter of keeping the mind and breathing together, not letting them separate even for a moment. Therefore an ancient alchemist said that "firing the medicine to produce the elixir" means driving energy by spirit, thereby attaining the Tao. In daily practice it is essential to embrace the breathing steadily with the mind and embrace the mind steadily with the breathing. When you have done this for a time, once you reach even balance you naturally become very stable and concentrated. You plunge into a profound trance where there is no sky and no earth, where you forget about everything, including your own body. This stage is the experience referred to by the classic saying, "Knowing the white, keep the black, and illumination of spirit will come of itself." You seem to feel body and mind revitalized and supple, with unusual buoyancy and wellbeing. One alchemist said that in this state you are like someone without the power of speech eating honey, unable to tell of its sweetness. Another alchemist said, "Almost imperceptible, the first transformation of yin and yang—heaven and earth, full of living energy, suddenly revolve. Therein is a bit of fine scenery—how can this work be put into words?" This time is what is known as "the one primordial energy coming from the void of space." As one alchemist said, "The winter solstice is midnight, where you find the celestial mind has no change, where creative energy first stirs, before myriad things are born." This is what is referred to in alchemical texts as Living Midnight. One alchemist said of this, "Gather energy quickly when winter comes." Another said, "Gathering means gathering without trying to gather, which means splitting open the primordial indefinite." This "splitting open the primordial indefinite" refers to the time of ultimate emptiness and perfect quietude. To empty oneself to the ultimate extent and preserve quietude to perfection is known as returning to Earth, the spiritually receptive mode. Earth the receptive is associated with the southwest: It is known as "the region where the medicine is produced," "the land of primordial nondifferentiation," and "the opening of the Mysterious Female. " An alchemist called Seeker of the Fundamental said, "If you want to look for the primordial seed of realization, you must seek out undifferentiated wholeness to set up the foundation." Understanding Reality, the classic of spiritual alchemy, says, "If you want to attain the immortality of the open spirit, you must set the foundation on the Mysterious Female. Once the foundation is set up, the open spirit does not die. Then how can the person die?" The aforementioned self-refinement, setting up the foundation, and gathering the great primal medicine, are all the same for men and women. Therefore it is said, "The great Way does not make a distinction between men and women; yin and yang, in their various combinations, are all the same." After this I'll talk more about temporal difference. In his Secret of Feminine Alchemy, Liu I-ming says, "There is a true secret about starting practice. The operation is as different for men and women as sky from sea. The principle for men is refinement of energy, the expedient for women is refinement of the body. " Men begin practice with the attention in the lower abdomen, just below the navel. Women start work with the attention between the breasts. Immortal Sister Zhang, one of the great Taoist women, was initiated long ago by Lu Yan, one of the ancestors of spiritual alchemy. Lu told her, "After midnight and before noon, settle the breathing and sit. As the energy passes through the midspine and on through the brain, gaining the power of energy, contemplate the self." Lu also said, "You must find the ancestor of your own house. Thunder in the earth rumbles, setting in motion rain on the mountain. Wait until washing, and the yellow sprouts emerge from earth. Grab the golden essence of vitality and lock it up tightly. Fire metal and wood to produce the dragon and tiger." In general, it is necessary to refine oneself thoroughly before one will have autonomy. Also one must take the positive energy of heaven and earth day after day, and concentrate to clear the mind hour after hour, before the effects of the practice will be experienced. It may take one or two months, or perhaps three or four months. The length of time depends only on the depth of one's work. While carrying out the work it may happen that women feel there is energy in the opening between the breasts that thrusts out, divides and goes into the breasts, right through to the nipples, which then erect. This is what alchemical classics call the living midnight when the medicine is produced. One alchemist said, "Suddenly at midnight there is a peal of thunder, and ten thousand doors, a thousand gates, open one after another. If you perceive that there is form within nothingness, I will admit you have seen the original human being in person." When the work reaches this point, the hundred energy channels in the body are in harmony, while their critical apertures, the passes where energy can accumulate, are all opened. In truth, each pulse fills the chest, all is spring. Now to explain Lu Yan's initiatory statements to Immortal Sister Zhang. "After midnight and before noon" refers to the fact that the midnight hour is best for finding reality. People who practice quiet sitting usually do it late at night or early in the morning. To "settle the breathing" means to tune the breath so that it is even. In "sitting," two people sit with unified attention placed between them. With mutual concentration, pure attention is embraced. With pure attention in the center, a unified energy flows, thus pressing tightly on the midspine, and going on through the brain. This is what is referred to as the reversal of the Yellow River, meaning the opening of the spinal energy channel. "Gaining energy, contemplate the self." The "self" here is a metaphor for pure positive energy, and the self has been refined into an incorruptible immortal of absolute unity. This is what alchemical classics refer to as absolute unity containing true energy. "Find the ancestor of your own house" means seeking out the very beginning of the living body receiving energy, finding the primordial point of original generative energy. "Thunder in the earth rumbles, setting in motion rain on the mountain." This is the same as the saying, "The white clouds pay court to the palace on high, ambrosia pours on the polar mountain." "Wait until washing, and the yellow sprouts emerge from earth." Waiting means waiting for the right time, washing means washing the mind and refining oneself. This is what is meant by the alchemical term "perfumed steaming." As for "yellow sprouts," yellow is the color of earth, sprouts are the life potential. Emerging from earth means that the experience is like when myriad things grow in spring, and the whole earth is renewed. At this time the positive energy goes all the way to heaven, in the form of a fiercely blazing fire, resembling flaming wind. Quickly gather it up and send it into the central chamber, in the center of the torso. This is why Lu Yan said, "Grab the golden essence and lock it up tightly." Another alchemist said, "Hold the golden essence fast, draw it carefully on, send it into the field of elixir." As for "Fire metal and wood to produce the dragon and tiger," this refers to the perfection of the sense and essence of consciousness, the first sprouting of the Tao. To sum up, it is just a matter of having people draw their attention to the inner sense of the real mind, carrying the work through the natural cycle. The dragon and tiger mean the ascent and descent of bipolar energy. If you work diligently, as one alchemist said, "When that one point of energy returns of itself and sinks into the body, it turns into year-round spring. A bit of white cloud brings a waft of fragrance; each time the rain passes, all is refreshed. Unconscious like a drunkard all day long, free and at ease, just keep 'the spring within the hollow.' When the essence of negativity throughout the body has been stripped away, it turns into a mass of pure positive gold." The work after this is the same for women as for men. Overall, in the secrets of the spiritual alchemy for women, these words alone should be the quickest route, Lu Yan did not hoard his celestial treasure, but divulged it all at once. It is a pity that people do not recognize it. Yet it should be realized that expressions such as "below the navel" and "between the breasts" are both representational. Do not look for them as having physical form. A classic says, "Clinging to this body is not the Way. Shunning this body is also wrong." It is also said, "The whole body, inside and out, is all dark." It is also said, "Looking right before your eyes, you don't recognize the real, much less what is important therein." The developmental process is subtle and necessitates personal transmission and mental reception from a true teacher. Only when you have understood it do you have a place to start. An alchemist said, "How can the personal transmission be explained on paper? Do not mislead yourself by blind guesswork." (From Immortal Sisters by Thomas Cleary pp 91-99)

I agree with this except for the final sentence, ".Meditation is equally effective, slower, and safer." I suspect that meditation alone is not enough for most of us because we are so deeply conditioned by the materialism and logic of contemporary society. I know for me I needed many powerful and traumatic experiences to break through my conditioning. (I note that you came to meditation after your earlier experiences with psychedelics.) The topic of Lewis Carroll is an interesting one. (I liked Nungali's above post for the excellent video rather than his Carroll comments.) I've previously posted about Carroll here... http://www.thedaobums.com/topic/39242-the-tao-bums-off-topic-random-philosophy-thread/?p=655623 I'm wary of emotive labels like 'paedophile'. As I see it, there's an element of puritanical regression at play with people afraid of their own shadows, leading to a tendency for witch hunts..... but a complex topic with many possible perspectives. I wrote a little about it here..... http://www.thedaobums.com/topic/39242-the-tao-bums-off-topic-random-philosophy-thread/?p=655858 I note that Gerald wrote: "Lewis Carroll and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, a tale about soul searching and enlightenment." At first I dismissed his comment as fanciful, but on further consideration it has validity. From a spiritual perspective, such powerful feelings unleash the potential for both destruction and growth. Anything can be a path, even a demon. Anything can be a demon, even a path.

For a systems-environment perspective on this see...... http://www.thedaobums.com/topic/38675-language-we-trick-ourselves-with/?p=631361

Some old classics….. I'm the humblest person I know. I thought I was wrong once, but I found out later I was mistaken. I used to think I was indecisive, but now I'm not so sure. I'm trying to be less self-deprecating, but I really suck at it. I can be spontaneous, if I have enough time to prepare for it. Repeat after me. We are all individuals. All generalizations are wrong. I swear to god I must be the only true optimist left on the planet. My apathy causes me problems, but I don't care. I used to be conceited but now I’m perfect. Always remember that you are a unique individual; just like everyone else. It brings bad luck to be superstitious. Non-conformists of the world, unite!

Jung was not a philosopher, his interest was in expressing inner experience. He was a doctor of the soul. To understand the origin of Jung's work it's necessary to read his Red Book...... "The years, of which I have spoken to you, when I pursued the inner images, were the most important time of my life. Everything else is to be derived from this. It began at that time, and the later details hardly matter anymore. My entire life consisted in elaborating what had burst forth from the unconscious and flooded me like an enigmatic stream and threatened to break me. That was the stuff and material for more than only one life. Everything later was merely the outer classification, the scientific elaboration, and the integration into life. But the numinous beginning, which contained everything, was then." These are the words of the psychologist C. G. Jung in 1957, referring to the decades he worked on The Red Book from 1914 to 1930. Although its existence had been known for more than eighty years, The Red Book was never made available to Jung's students and followers until it was published to wide acclaim in 2009. He read widely and had many influences. Any educated person does. From his school years he recounts in Memories, Dreams, Reflections...... I began systematically pursuing questions I had consciously framed. I read a brief introduction to the history of philosophy and in this way gained a bird's-eye view of everything that had been thought in this field. I found to my gratification that many of my intuitions had historical analogues. Above all I was attracted to the thought of Pythagoras, Heraclitus, Empedocles, and Plato, despite the long-windedness of Socratic argumentation. Their ideas were beautiful and academic, like pictures in a gallery, but somewhat remote. Only in Meister Eckhart did I feel the breath of life — not that I understood him. The Schoolmen left me cold, and the Aristotelian intellectualism of St. Thomas appeared to me more lifeless than a desert. I thought, "They all want to force something to come out by tricks of logic, something they have not been granted and do not really know about. They want to prove a belief to themselves, whereas actually it is a matter of experience." They seemed to me like people who knew by hearsay that elephants existed, but had never seen one, and were now trying to prove by arguments that on logical grounds such animals must exist and must be constituted as in fact they are. For obvious reasons, the critical philosophy of the eighteenth century at first did not appeal to me at all. Of the nineteenth-century philosophers, Hegel put me off by his language, as arrogant as it was laborious; I regarded him with downright mistrust. He seemed to me like a man who was caged in the edifice of his own words and was pompously gesticulating in his prison. But the great find resulting from my researches was Schopenhauer. He was the first to speak of the suffering of the world, which visibly and glaringly surrounds us, and of confusion, passion, evil — all those things which the others hardly seemed to notice and always tried to resolve into all embracing harmony and comprehensibility. Here at last was a philosopher who had the courage to see all was not for the best in the fundamentals of the universe.

@ Karl Carl Jung has many critics and what you believe is your business. I personally find his worldview greatly enriching. As a matter of interest I wonder if you’ve actually read any of Jung’s works? If so, I'd be interested to know which ones.

The Star River (Milky Way) over Uluru (Ayers Rock), Central Australia.

1. I wanted to be a poet but inspiration never came. One day I set off from the east gate of the city and walked the three hundred miles to Hua Shan. Arriving late at night I lodged at its foot; the next morning when I saw the mountain for the first time I fell down in terror. Disquieted and exultant, I was filled with sudden grief and ardent joy. I sought to chase the clouds and bathe in the Heavenly River [Milky Way], to go naked, unbraid my hair, sing dirges and creep cowardly away. When I recalled why I had come, I felt hot as an oven and cold as ice. Though the mountain's harmony offered me peace, my imbalance made me restless. Three days and three nights I meditated on the mountain top. It then revealed its many wonderous forms and took me to its heart. (A free rendering of an essay in Hua-shan chih, Ch. 5, 40a) 2. In the far distance rises Hua Shan with its great precipices and awesome chasms. Out of a gorge rush waters of turquoise blue cascading over white stones. Perched on the cliffs are shrines to the mountain gods who send fertile rains to the people on the plains. In the temples Taoist monks read the sacred texts and burn incense on the altars. Their features are weather-lined and their gowns patchwork. For decades they seek the path of truth; they watch the drifting clouds, the fathomless depths, the passing of time. These followers of Lao-tzu know of the Great Ultimate; they peruse the sacred writings. Their minds are not bound to either master or book, but schooled by the mountain and enlightened by the Way of Nature. Pilgrims endure the climb and rest in the sanctuaries. Their strength and courage is renewed by the telluric powers of the great heights. Some pilgrims kept diaries and others wrote poems and essays which have been handed down to us though written long ago. On doors and walls some scribbled their thoughts which have weathered away. In our turn we climb the mountain in the tracks of those earlier pilgrims, recording what we heard of them and what they wrote. Some were great scholars but most were simple people. All bear witness to the beauty of the Mountain which filled their heart. (Paraphrased from Hua Shan Gazetteer, Hua-shan chih) Ch’i-ting, Chessboard Pavilion. This lonely temple, on a rockhead below East Peak, is inaccessible as the path has weathered away. The Chessboard Pavilion seen against the sky and ridges of the great Tsinling Range.

The number one rule being that we humans are top predator? However I didn't see it in those terms at all. My interest was in its symbolism for which there are many possible interpretations, best left to the imagination. I suspect Zhuangzi would smile on the scene and write a clever anecdote illustrating the clash between Daoist and Confucianist worldviews.

Pope's peace doves attacked by crow and seagull (2014) Fate of white doves unclear after being released by children standing alongside pontiff in front of crowd in St Peter's Square. Two white doves that were released as a peace gesture by children standing alongside Pope Francis were attacked by other birds. As tens of thousands of people watched in St Peter's Square on Sunday, a seagull and a large black crow swept down on the doves after they were set free from an open window of the Apostolic Palace. One dove lost some feathers as it broke free from the gull. But the crow pecked repeatedly at the other dove. It was not clear what happened to the doves as they flew off. (from http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/jan/26/pope-doves-attacked-by-crow-seagull-st-peters-square )

Hedda Morrison writes, continued…… An easy path took us to Tung Feng, the East Peak, where to our great delight we witnessed an ancient Taoist dance. The gowns of the priests were of a bright russet colour, their cotton shoes black and their stockings purest white, as prescribed by ritual. Our sojourn on Hua Shan was drawing to an end and the time had come to return to the mundane plain with all its worries from which, for a while, we had escaped. The descent to North Peak by the sky-ladder we found far more perilous than on our way up. We spent our last evening with the immortal spirits of the mountains, seated on the terrace of Pei Feng Temple with its community watching the evening shadows creep across the plain of the Yellow River. Suddenly the sun disappeared, twilight came and night followed. The air grew chilly and we went indoors. Then came to mind a short poem inscribed on a rock of South Peak about a hermit, of whom it was said: The air was his food and the clouds his abode. He rode the winds with the full moon lighting the Way. Wealth and honours and all worldly inducements He shunned and kept his heart pure and simple. The cosmic battle of Nature’s elements enacted by two monks, of thrust and parry, mao-tun, on the heights of East Peak against a drop curtain of billowing clouds. Another pose in the supreme art of T’ai-chi, or the battle of shadow and light yin-yang. Cage bed of blackwood inlaid with porcelain panels. The community kitchen of Jade Well Monastery, with two tiered steamers called cheng-lung for cooking rice or wheat loaves. Only vegetable food is cooked, without spices other than soy sauce.

Thanks Gerald. I particularly like these paragraphs…… One old Taoist hermit [in the Lo Fu Mountains] told me that the most important point of all is to always maintain a completely carefree state of mind. The old Taoist said that he had begun of to study the Tao when he was fourteen years old. His master taught him to pay close attention to all natural phenomena, such as floating clouds, The reflection of the moon in a pond, flowing water, birds, and so forth, and to take these as models for his own behaviour. With the sole exception of the human species, no other species of life on earth ever violates the principles of Heaven. Birds and beasts, flowers and trees, all conform to the primordial principle of "flowing with the wind," and they all follow their destinies as decreed by Heaven. Those species never wonder why stormy winds arise; instead they simply delight in the natural world created by Heaven, without wasting an iota of energy trying to change it. For example, if a tree is growing in a heavily shaded spot, it naturally extends its branches and stretches its boughs to reach for sunlight. In order to enjoy the incomparable joy of such a carefree state, humans should take flowers and trees, birds and beasts, as their teachers. Recently I came across an old poem by Wang Yang-ming, in which he writes, An old monk lives below the cliff, His hut surrounded by pine and bamboo. At dawn he hears the birds’ spring song; At night he sleeps with the mountain tiger. The moment I read these lines, I immediately thought of that wise old Taoist in the Lo Fu Mountains. I once read a popular poem in which I found the following lines - Entering an ancient temple at dawn, The morning sun shines high in the forest. A path winds through hidden grottos, Birds frolic joyfully on the mountain, A lake reflects the shadow of an empty mind, The night is still and silent This poem conveys the ambience of a mountain monastery quite well, but unfortunately it's still impossible to describe it fully in words. I lived in China in many years, and from beginning to end I always loved to stay in monasteries located deep in the mountains. According to my own experience, spending a few days in a mountain monastery not only delighted the heart and pleased the eye with scenic beauty, it also provided the spirit all sorts of inspirations and insights, offered precious opportunities to cultivate nature and seek truth, and proved interesting in countless other ways as well. (John Blofeld - My Journey in Mystic China pp.33-34)

Hedda Morrison writes, continued…… In China there is always a well-functioning information service; wherever we arrived news of our coming had travelled ahead. We found ourselves a centre of interest, for according to the priests, foreigners seldom ventured here and it was long ago that they had last seen Europeans. To my great surprise among the guests I found an old friend, a priest from the Pai-yun Kuan, the 'White Cloud Temple' outside the south-west Gate of Peking, which he had helped me to photograph. He too had come on pilgrimage to Hua Shan, walking all the way round about by Sianfu, the capital of Shensi Province, and through the famous pass of T'ung Kuan. Great distances indeed! The nights on Hua Shan were bitterly cold, though it was August and the hottest season of the year. The brick bed was heated for our comfort and we slept well. Next morning the sun was up early on the peak and while Wolfram was conversing with the priests I watched the fairylike processions of small clouds as they rose from the plain, warmed up by the sun. After the midday meal we made for the southern end of the massif where great precipices cleave it from the lower slopes of the Tsinling Range. This part of Hua Shan is characterized by many curiously shaped, vertical butts which from the distance look like medieval castles perched on commanding hill-tops. Nan Feng, the South Peak, is not really a peak but a gentle slope, less exposed to the violent winds and thus warmer. Vegetables are grown there and trees and other plants are plentiful; it was probably the first settlement of the hermits of Hua Shan. The temple is now the largest and wealthiest in endowments, treasures and material comforts. The monk from White Cloud Temple inserts an incense stick in the porcelain urn decorated with dragons in blue under-glaze, flanked by two candlesticks. South Peak Monastery. Mountain butts that look like official caps and are thus called Kuan-mao, seen from a point on West Ridge. South Peak shrine of Jade Fertility Well, Tse-liu yu-ching, according to the lintel inscription. The pair of cast-iron cranes symbolize longevity. The inscriptions on the two boards at the entrance say only vegetarians and teetotallers may enter. On the door posts are two tablets which read: Wan-ku chen-yuan Kao Pai-ti “From of old the Yellow River rises in the land of the Great White God His-feng yuan-chi ya Huang Ho here its waters are controlled by the spirit of West Peak” When the snow melts the flood waters of the River Ho are laden with yellow loess. At Hua Shan they are deflected east and rush through Dragon Gate, Lung Men, into the great North China plain. As the mountain deity regulates the flow of waters, it was propitiated regularly with imperial sacrifices. A shrine on East Peak. A monk is seated on a bench and another stands in the doorway, behind a cast-iron bell and dew-collecting stone cup.

Yes, excellent. Please do. Related posts are most welcome.

Sea Eagle catches a Flying Fox

AT FLOWERING-BRIGHTNESS MONASTERY IN YUNG-CH'UNG DISTRICT It's late summer weather, time bitter heat begins to ease: windblown trees murmur under skies promising rain, and at dusk, cicadas cry on and on. Narrow Yung-ch'ung streets quiet, temple gardens all isolate mystery, no one visits. Autumn scholartree blossoms blanket the ground. Here, the lit years pass, careless and slow, the world's great dramas far away. Why wait until I'm feeble to realize our life's elusive, our death repose? A true recluse need not live far away knowing Tao is groping in darkness: even in the world's bustle and dust a mind of emptiness never wanders. Fresh vegetables for dawn hunger and fur-lined robes for chill nights: such luck to elude hunger and cold. What more could I ever ask? Simple and hardly sick— this is all I want. Rejoice in heaven, resent nothing: how could I explain such resolve? An I Ching's lying beside the bed. - Po Chü-i (772-846 CE), translated by David Hinton.

Thanks for your two yuan's worth, Taomeow but newcomer's corner is not the place to pursue this. (Indeed, it's not a discussion I'd like to pursue at all. I am not an ordained Daoist nor do I have any personal experience of contemporary Chinese Daoism.) However I will add some words of defense for Komjathy..... Louis Komjathy (Kang Siqi 康思奇; Xiujing 修靜; Wanrui 萬瑞; Ph.D.; CSO) is a scholar-practitioner of Daoism and an ordained Daoist priest of the Huashan 華山 (Mount Hua) lineage of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Daoism. He received his Ph.D. in Religious Studies (Boston University; 2005) with an emphasis on Daoism and comparative religious studies. Louis has published Title Index to Daoist Collections (Three Pines Press, 2002), Cultivating Perfection: Mysticism and Self-transformation in Early Quanzhen Daoism (Brill, 2007), Handbooks for Daoist Practice (Xiudao shouce 修道手冊; Yuen Yuen Institute [Hong Kong], 2008), The Way of Complete Perfection: A Quanzhen Daoist Anthology (State University of New York Press, 2013), and The Daoist Tradition: An Introduction (Bloomsbury Academic, 2013). In 2006, Louis lived and trained as a Daoist recluse in Chengdu, Sichuan, at which time he received ordination into the Huashan lineage. Following his ordination, he lived as a visiting Daoist monk in the monasteries of Laoshan 嶗山 (Mount Lao; near Qingdao, Shandong) and Huashan 華山 (Mount Hua; Huayin, Shaanxi). (from http://daoistfoundation.org/about/ )

Thanks for your comprehensive overview Taomeow. For clarity I'd add that the Daodejing and Nanhua zhenjing (aka Zhuangzi) are foundational Daoist scriptures. “In the Daoist tradition, the Daodejing is read as a scripture and as a manual for self-cultivation. In terms of being a scripture, it is understood to be “sacred” or an emanation of the Dao. Placed in the whole of Daoist history, the Daodejing is probably the most influential text. Evidence for this is found in the numerous Daoist commentaries contained in the Ming-dynasty (1368-1644) Daozang 道藏 (Daoist Canon). There are hundreds of extant Daoist commentaries, both partial and complete, and they continue to be written by contemporary Daoists. The text has received diverse interpretations depending on changing socio-historical contexts and religious concerns.” - Louis Komjathy (The Chinese character and Daoist religious category here translated as 'scripture' is jing, which is also translated as 'classic' or 'canon'.)

Continued…… Hua Shan has altogether five peaks. Pei Feng, the North Peak, is the first to be reached for it is the lowest, about 5,000 feet high. From it a path takes one along a razor-edge cat-walk to Hsi Feng, the West Peak. It is difficult going so it is safer to wear rope sandals or soft rubber-soled shoes, as leather and nails give no grip on the smooth and foot-polished rock. One looks down thousands of feet on either side and yet one must not feel dizzy. We quietly set off with the good wishes of the priests. In places the ledge was only wide enough to let one person pass. The stone parapets set up long ago were now so weathered and rickety that it was wise not to seek their support. At one point a short, perpendicular ladder – the sky-ladder – took one over the ledge to a higher rock. Here many a pilgrim gave up and turned back, among others was the great Yang statesman, philosopher and poet Han Yu (A.D. 768-824). At a small temple on the higher ledge we called on the priest and had tea with him. Among his temple treasures there was a small brooch-head which I much admired and to my surprise he at once gave it to me. I accepted with pleasure and by way of return left on the altar an offering of silver pieces. The small Yang head of Kuan-yin Pusa is still with me after these many years. On the peaks the view often changes within a few minutes. The most fascinating rockwall was the West Peak's, with so sheer a drop that it looked as though it were floating in the void. At times the sun's rays glistened on the rocks and clouds came gently sailing through the blue sky. Minutes later banks of drifting mist rose rapidly out of the abysses and enveloped us and the West Peak in their ethereal world. Then sharp winds blew and rent the clouds apart, revealing for a moment the rock slope with pine trees, single or in clumps, dark and finely cut out in the blanketing mists. Unforgettable views of drifting and dispersing vapours, a most exciting play of nature! I was torn between enjoying the spectacle or taking pictures of the bewitching, fleeting scene. The West Peak Temple lay in a sheltered corner with ample space around it. Through a grove of fragrant pine trees, a gentle path led to the temple. The mist had lifted and the sun was shining brightly. On arrival at the temple we were invited to join the meal which was being served. The admirable skill of the cook made one dish look and taste like fish, another like meat, though the food was entirely vegetarian according to Taoist rule, mainly soybean curds and sauce for protein, mushrooms and various herbs for flavour. North Peak Ridge and monastery, seen from East Peak. A monastery in the wood on West Peak Ridge. Fairy Palm Cliff East Peak Monastery in a grove with a distant view of the plain A smaller temple to the right of East Peak Monastery

Continued….. From the peak looking west we had a superb view of the Tsinling Range to where it abuts the Yellow River. Across the river to the north were the Phoenix Mountains, and on the plain 5,000 feet beneath us, near the confluence of the Wei with the Yellow River, we saw the railway line to Sianfu and the tiny station of Hua-yin Hsien, 'District town under the shadow of Hua Shan'. In the clear air details of this vast landscape were easily recognized. I spent two nights at the Pei Feng Temple and then Wolfram Eberhard caught up with me. He was fascinated by the countless inscriptions cut in the live rock, praising the beauty of the sacred mountain, invoking the help of the mountain spirits and returning thanks for favours received. His inquisitive mind discovered charming poems of the Taoist Way, many of which he gives here. He easily made friends with the priests and visitors, and when they saw how keen he was and how well he spoke their language they told him all they knew in long conversations, in part reported below. How grateful I was to him for my better understanding of the sacred mountain and its story. The Pei Feng Temple was looked after by five priests. With them was a young lad from Shanghai; being of delicate health his parents had sent him to Hua Shan to live and study. Every day in this ideal setting he was taught by the priests, mainly calligraphy and painting. Steep mountains and drifting mists – Shan shui as the Chinese call landscapes, with lonely and gnarled trees – are the very elements of Chinese painting. The atmosphere of the temple was pleasant and dignified. Many pilgrims left gifts in token of their gratitude to the gods and their servants, such as paintings, embroideries, wood-carvings, urns and candle sticks. North Peak Ridge. The saddle, on which the funnel (rockwall with chains shown above) debouches, lies in the dip between the near temples clinging to the rockwall and the main monastery straddling the narrow ridge, further off. In the distance the northern plain under the “Shadow of Hua Shan”, Hua-yin hsien, as the country is called. The Yellow River flowing east is faintly seen. The Shanghai lad on his way to North Peak Temple. He carries the abbot’s staff of office and emblematic Taoist flywhisk, “cloudsweeper” yun-chou, a yaks’s tail. North Peak main monastery. The path to the peak above passes through the buildings. The stone arch says Pei Feng Ting, North Peak Top. Above North Peak Monastery two monks with flywhisks face the western sun. The trail leading to the plateau 2000 feet higher up skirts the great crater dominated by Fairy Palm Cliff.

Hedda Morrison writes continued…… Next morning I was given a guide, who carried my rucksack and strung over his shoulder the tripod and camera bag. We left shortly after dawn, following a path leading upstream. There had been a heavy rain the night before and we frequently waded across the stream which here and there almost took up the whole width of the narrow valley. Right and left rockwalls rose hundreds of feet-and shut out the sun. We clambered over boulders which blocked the narrow, winding path. Wild flowers grew in profusion wherever there was some earth, while pines which had found a foothold reached up to the light and sun. At hourly intervals we passed small temples with a solitary priest and acolyte for guardians. They invariably offered us hot, fragrant tea and asked us the same questions they asked all other pilgrims and wanderers of the Way - Where are you from, what is your country? Are you married, have you children and how many? Would you like some food? At midday we came to the end of the valley and to another small temple, where the real climb began. Looking up, the sky seemed infinitely far away. We were almost entirely shut in by the rockwall; the only opening was further up the stream we had left. For three hours in company with other pilgrims we toiled up and up, slowly and steadily. Steps had been hewn into the rock in the narrow crevices. In some places iron chains had been set up by the pious to help the pilgrims to keep balance and pull themselves up. Often they were in bad condition and more of a danger than a help. At one or two rest places there were rustic benches where we met other wanderers. When climbing we had to call out continuously to warn people coming down to stop where there was room to pass. Suddenly we emerged on a ridge leading to the Temple of the North Peak, Pei Feng Miao. This ridge was so narrow that the path went through the temple; on both sides the drop into nothing was frightening. A matshed, ch’a-p’eng, on the steep climb from Jade Spring Temple. Three travellers sip tea; porters rest their bags of flour on the low benches, the easier to pick them up. The rockwall across the valley seen from a higher rest point. One traveller has a long-stem pipe with a tiny bowl – a one-puff one-smoke pipe. Funnel leading to North Peak ridge. The steps three feet high are cut at a sharp angle in the stone slab. On the right is an inscription deeply cut into the rockwall.